images

Over the last few weeks I have been studying the medium of photography, a topic I have never really explored or studied before. I read not only about the historical signifance of photography from Alan Trachtenberg’s Classic Essays on Photography as well articles from the likes of Annette Kuhn, Victor Burgin and Susan Sontag, but I have questioned my own authority when it comes to taking photographs. To perhaps show off what I have learned in a very short time, I have completed a full-length photo essay by tapping into my own childhood and analyzing one photo based off of photography and semiotic theories. This is part memoir, part academic, but an interesting read none the less that relies on just one photograph. Click the link (that will direct you to ISSU) below:

I recently spent time reading and analyzing the graphic novel of Coraline, written by Neil Gaiman, illustrated by P. Craig Russell through the understanding of both semiotics and comic theory. The graphic novel is an adaption of Gaiman’s national bestseller that introduces us to a curious young girl named Coraline who discovers a secret, hidden door that takes her into an alternate world that is unlike anything she has ever experienced. In this world, she has a mother and father who are eager to spend time with her (unlike her distracted, “real world” parents), but with considerable strings attached. While I enjoyed the story, I was interested in how I was going to understand this graphic novel, which I will admit is a genre I do not usually read.

If you’re looking for a movie that captures the essence of celebrity-obsession, Sofia Coppola’s (daughter of famed director Francis Ford Coppola) led The Bling Ring certainty tops that list. The movie, released last summer, is based on the real life crimes of a group of Los Angeles teenagers who broke into the homes of a slew of A-list celebrities including Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Rachel Bilson and Megan Fox. While the real buglers are spending time behind bars and still in the midst of a lengthy probation, the movie became not only fodder for the actual crime, but allowed for a satirical look—while not violent in nature, still an invasion of privacy, but planned (by these teenagers) for the purposes of obtaining expensive clothing and jewelry. As movie critic Richard Roeper called Emma Watson’s portrayal of Alexis Neiers “comedic gold”, while on the surface, Watson isn’t playing the role of a cartoon character leaping over fences, skinning knees, cracking jokes and misleading officers about her identity when confronted at the home she shares with her mother and father and her two sisters, her character is simply oblivious to reality, as she truly thinks she means what she says.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the movies and the ambition behind them. But I’m getting tired of the advertising: these repetitive movie posters. Taking a closer inspection the movie posters are functioning in a pretty obvious way.

Sean Hall, in his book This Means This. This Means That outlines the many ways that viewers judge an image. As he explains, “the forms of placement tell us what is most important to the producer in terms of communication” (89). So what do the producers of movie posters want us to know about the movie, about the superhero? If you think about audience perspective, the viewer can only see the movie poster from one angle: directly from the front. They can control exactly what we see.

Let’s look at some of the features of posters.

First, nearly every poster places the superhero in the dead center of the poster. The center is the most important place, “the thing that is seen to prevail over that which surrounds it” compared to the marginal objects (98). In this case, the marginal objects are the rest of the city, like the buildings that surround Batman as makes a leap in his Batpod. In the case of the Iron Man posters, it’s a handful of enemies and supporting characters that float somewhere around his shoulders in the background. All of this points to the superheroes importance – basically, that the superhero of the movie is going to be the main character and the one the viewer identifies with, along with numerous other reasons.

Photo credit: Splatter.com

Photo credit: sci-fimovieposters.co.uk

Similarly, the hero is closest to the viewer out of the other images. No matter what is shown in the background, the superhero makes up the definitive foreground. This has the same effect of being in the center because everything is geared around the hero.

Third, the hero is “larger than life” – that is, depicted much larger than other people and his surroundings. When the superhero is looking down, the viewer is essentially looking up to the hero. The superhero gains more power from this position, since being higher is generally a place of superiority. He becomes a role model. The hero’s skills, his aspirations, and his very identity become something to look up to, no matter what the personal morality of the viewer is.

An interesting note is that the most idealized object is placed at the top of the image. It isn’t too much of a stretch to compare these images of superheroes to gods. God is always at the top of his images, at the front and center of whatever else is marginalized. The superheroes are effectively the gods of their small worlds. Pretty true. Batman holds the city together by himself without the credit. Captain America single-handedly brings down one of the most powerful men in World War II (according to the movie, anyway).

All in all, it’s a good setup that sucks the viewer into the world of the superhero, setting him or her up to believe in the hero’s power. It’s predetermined after the viewer sees the poster that the hero will not fail, or will come out triumphant no matter the cost. The posters that show the hero involved in some kind of heroic action while also the focus of the poster only emphasize their heroic nature.

All we need now is a new way to advertise movies, so we don’t need the same thing every time.